


You can see god when I take my mask off

by Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish



Series: Inktober 2020 SanCor fest [29]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Final Fantasy XV, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blood, F/M, Not too detailed, Vague descriptions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27313096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish/pseuds/Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish
Summary: Inktober prompt #31: CrawlThe god asks payment for it’s help
Relationships: Sansa Stark/Cor Leonis
Series: Inktober 2020 SanCor fest [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948696
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	You can see god when I take my mask off

**Author's Note:**

> TW: description of gore, though I don’t think it’s too much.

Through the fingers, the last thing she saw was the wooden doors flying open, and the look of Ramsey’s malicious, crazed excitement, drop into one of sheer horror and fear.

Next came the screams, and the removal of the cold hands from her face. The sound of flesh tearing and blood splattering the floors had Sansa relieved she closed her eyes, but the lack of one sense heightened her others. The begging for mercy and the painful, pitiful whines of dying men and dogs made her want to throw up when they reached her ears. The metallic smell of blood hitting her nose, the men losing control of their bowels as they were torn limb from limb. Her knees shook from where she stood, body beginning to lean heavily against the altar, and she wanted the violence to be over as soon as possible.

Sansa thought that the adrenaline was finally crashing, but she could feel the drip of the blood on her back, sliding down her body. Blood loss. She knew that feeling, having experienced it in the grip of Ramsey’s control.

The screams of agony slowly died off with the men, and Sansa finally cracked open her eyes. Everything was blurry, the faint light from the door casting sight over the broken, bleeding, dismembered bodies. Hazy, she tried to shake off her fatigue and step forward, only to collapse to the ground.

Her knees fell heavily, a thump into a puddle of blood, and hands catching herself. Dazed, Sansa looked down at her body. Looked at her hands. It was covered with the thick viscosity of warm, split blood. Glancing around at the bodies, her eye caught onto the head of Ramsey, and the pale, dead eyes staring back at her. She gave a slow tired blink, and wondered why she felt nothing, staring at the evidence of her freedom. Slow, casual footsteps then moved towards her, and looking up, Sansa stared into the face of her saviour.

Of the unknown.

Lightning ran across the sky outlined the being’s silhouette. Large, arching horns, rose from it’s head, the snarling mask splattered with blood. Dressed in black, with a sword held loosely in it’s hands, it glinted with blood as well.

Blinking heavily, the figure became two, and then three, and then she felt her mind drift away, body falling with it.

Her mind seemed to swim in darkness, and it took ages to crawl out of the warm shroud of sleep. When her eyes flickered open, she squinted at the flame some feet away from her. Head groggy, she registered that her body was aching, particularly her legs and back. Wincing, her arms shook as she pushed herself up into a sitting position.

Casting a blearily, confused glance around, she noticed that she was in some small, wooden room, off the the right of a centre fireplace, roaring happily in the middle of the room. The bed she was on was more like piled blankets and furs, and she ran her fingers through them, her mind slipping into the nostalgia of her childhood.

A creak of floorboards had her whipping her head to the sound, months of fear rising, building in her chest. On a wooden chest in the corner, was the being that saved her. One foot raised on the chest, the other dangled and pressed down on the floor. A sheathed blade was hugged lightly to it’s chest, crossing diagonally and over it’s left shoulder.

Loose, black pants with and equally loose black, long sleeved shirt. It was tucked into the waist band of his trousers, and it’s forearms were wrapped in dark leather. Their feet were bare. Around it’s shoulder and neck was come kind of thick fur pelt, like a mane around it’s head. The mask was still in place, and now in brighter light, the flames reflected across the metal, making the snarled face more prominent and terrifying.

The glowing eyes were no longer there, just a dark void where the eyes should be, and Sansa had to look away, instead gazing up at the horns. They seemed to be branching up from it’s forehead behind the mask, a dark brown colour with tied bits of red string around the left horn.

The heavy silence and penetrating stare had Sansa looking down at her hands, now thankfully clean. Then her brows furrowed, noticing that she was no longer wearing a dress. A loose fitting top, similar to the being’s, but white and hung off her frame. Feeling around underneath her in a mild panic, she had to breath an audible sigh of relief that her bloomers were still on. She lacked a corset, but going by the wrappings she felt around her chest and back, Sansa blushed with the knowledge that the creature had tended to her wounds.

She didn’t know how to feel at it more than likely seeing her naked, but it’s not like the time with Ramsey offered her any privacy. Licking cracked lips, Sansa looked back up at the creature.

“Thank you.” Her voice was hoarse, dry and needing water. Tilting it’s head, the being must notice this, as it gets up, steps light and sure as it goes to a bucket near one of the other walls. It’s then she noticed that there were no doors

‘ _Where were the doors?_ ’

In her frantic search, the other occupant reached her side, and she startled as it crouched down on her right. Holding a wooden cup, Sansa peered inside with trepidation and only saw water. With a nod in thanks, she took it from it’s grip, her pale hands brushing against it’s cold, larger ones.

“Payment will be needed.” It said after she finished drinking. Wiping her mouth, trying to still her shaking hands, Sansa hesitantly replied, “I-I don’t have anything to pay you.”

It cocked it’s head to the side, spoke again. “You have many things to repay me by.” And then it’s hand lifted, pointing to her arm, “Your bones, your eyes.” Then to her face, finger and breath widthapart from touching her. Wide eyed and trembling, Sansa followed the hand as it lightly pressed a finger to her sternum. “I could take your skin, your blood. Organs. Heart.” It was all said with a low drawl, lacking any feeling.

Bottom lip trembling, she whispered, “I need those.”

It hummed and with drew the finger. “Do you? You can function with one eye.” And tapped the same finger below one of the eye sockets of it’s mask.

Hands wringing tightly, she softly pleaded, “Is there anything else?”

Shifting, it sat down, crossing it’s legs and leant it’s head on it’s fist. “Many things,” It continued casually. “Thoughts, memories. I could take your ability to see, to hear, to smell.”

There was one thing that stayed in her mind the entire time. She said she would give anything if it would save her from Ramsey, and she needed to know if she had traded one captor for another. Swallowing hard, she said, not asked, “You would take my body.”

The being was already very still, but it seemed as if all life left it’s body, the air heavy. “Only if willingly given.” The empty eyes bore in her’s, and she couldn’t help the weak, scoff of disbelief.

“So you would dismember me but not rape me?” She didn’t believe it, could not. Because it was unlikely that a being who willing ripped apart people, would not take her body too.

As if sensing her doubt, the voice went from blank to a low, angry growl. “I’m a killer, a deal-maker. Not a rapist or defiler.”

She pursed her lips, not wanting to speak in the face of it’s anger, and looked away again. Sansa knew she had to give something, she promised she would when it took care of Ramsey, and she wasn’t the type of person to go back on their word. Thinking over the options given, she looked back up at the being, and asked, “If you took memories, I would never have them again?”

It tilted it’s head again, anger seemingly diminished with her question. ”Correct.”

“May I choose the memories?”

It tapped it’s finger on the wooden floor in thought, and the rhythmic noise had Sansa’s hair standing on end. “Depends on the weight of them. Depends on how important they are.”

“What about-“ She began to blurt out, but stopped. Behind the snarling mask, it’s eyes seemed heavily fixed on her, and weight had her faltering. Swallowing, she whispered, “What about the memories of my last four months?”

It paused in it’s tapping, and slowly replied, “...Large payment to give. A very specific time frame.”

She looked away, facing a wall instead, and in flashes her mind replayed the pain and torment she went through. She could feel the sweaty, greedy hands over her body, the slice of cold metal on her skin. Squeezing her eyes shut, Sansa tried to force back the tears but some still slipped out. Taking a breath, she stuttered out, “It was when-those men you killed. One of them-all of them-“

She cut herself off, unable to finish her words. Luckily the creature seemed to understand, as it replied with a cold voice, “They hurt you.” Bottom lip trembling, Sansa just nodded.

“Let me see.” The words confused her and she looked up, eyes seeing through tears as it’s hands came up to her face. Instinctively she flinched back, and they paused in mid-air. The silence was heavy, and flickering her eyes from the hands to the mask, she took in a shaky breath and leant her head forward, allowing his cold fingertips to touch her temples.

With her allowance, the creature continued to move it’s hands until they cupped her head. She didn’t know what it saw, just for a pause, a brief few second of breath, before it withdrew from her violently, snatching it’s hands back.

She reared away from it as it shot up from it’s seat and began to pace and prowl around the same room like a caged animal. The fire in the middle began to crack and pop viciously, echoing it’s anger, and Sansa stayed frozen, huddled against the wall in fear, wide eyes fixed on it’s tense posture.

And then it paused by the wall across from her and violently punched it hard. The room shook, and from such strength Sansa was surprised there was no crack in the wooden. Fist still connected with the wall, she heard the heavy, panting breathing, and Sansa had no idea what to do.

Then, withdrawing it’s hand, it slowly turned back to her, and she waited with a fearful, baited breath to see how it would react next. Empty eye holes continued to stare into her soul as it began to move. Around the fire to the foot of the bed, it crouched low, and kept it’s gaze fixed on her’s.

“I will not accept your memories.”

At it’s serious, low tone, Sansa began uncertainly, “But-what about-“

It just shook it’s head, “Payment for killing them will not be necessary.” Then cocked it’s head once more and added, “But I will insist on payment for healing you.”

Worrying her lips, she asked, “And you won’t take my memories?”

There was a cluck of a tongue, as if it was annoyed, and it looked away from her, which startled her because that was a first. This entire time, besides reacting to her memories, it had kept a fixed stare on her. “I do not want those memories.” It declared and she felt anger suddenly boil up under her skin.

“ _Neither do I!_ ” She exclaimed, and her reaction seemed to startle it, and she snapped her jaw shut, horrified at how she snapped at the creature.

And then it huffed and grumbled for a few seconds, before declaring, “I will take the emotions behind it. You will remember it all, but the fear, the terror, the agony? You will remember that you felt them, but they will not exist in those memories.”

Thinking it was too good to be true, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Is that all you will take?”

A pause. “Your hair.”

Her hand flew to her hair, bringing it around her shoulder. “My hair?” Sansa had been complimented for her hair since she was young, and she can admit she was quite attached to it. But why would it want her hair?

It did not answer why though, just hummed, “Hmm, I would like your hair in repayment for healing you.”

Frowning in frustration, she argued, “But you just said that I wouldn’t need to pay for-“

It cut her off with a wave of it’s hand, “I changed my mind. I will take the emotions, which is more of a boon for you than me, and in return I want your hair.”

It was a fair concession, and made sense. And it was correct, that she was getting the better deal from this situation. Plus, hair can grow back.

With a hesitant nod, she then froze in place as it began to crawl forward, over her legs, and crouched in front of her. It all happened in a quick few seconds, and the predatory prowl over her body had her letting out a shaky exhale as the mask was inches from her face, and she could feel it’s warmth from it’s body radiating off of it. Confused, she recalled that it’s hands were cold, but the rest of it was warm?

Then it decided to settle itself on her outstretched legs, the weight heavy on her thighs. Sansa could feel her cheeks burning at this close proximity, but didn’t react violently because throughout this entire ordeal, she never felt true fear from this creature. It’s reactions, yes, but it helped her, _healed_ her. She wasn’t one willing to trust so easily after Ramsey, but there was this blatant honesty about the creature, that Sansa couldn’t help but feel a tentative trust for.

“How will you take the emotions?” She whispered, as if afraid to talk so loudly with how closer it was to her.

Hands resting on either side of her waist, it replied, and she felt shivers run up her spine. It was the exact same, low rumble as when back in the shrine, so close to her ear. “There are a few ways that solidify a payment. A handshake. An exchange of blood. A kiss.”

Her mouth worked but no sound came out. Then swallowing, throat dry, she finally croaked out, “ _A kiss_?”

A nod. “The mouth holds much meaning. It’s an opening to the body, where words and thoughts come out. Soul-stealers take your soul directly from the mouth.” It was said with such a casual tone, that she wanted to laugh hysterically at whatever her life was now.

“So to take my emotions...” She trailed off, not wanting to verbalise that fact that she would have to kiss this being to pay it back.

“If you permit it.” It finished for her, and Sansa shouldn't be surprised that it was asking for consent, after seeing the angered offence at her thinking it would rape her.

Curious, Sansa asked, “And if I don’t?”

It shrugged nonchalantly, “Then you will be left with the emotions, and I will just take your hair.”

With a nervous flick to the mouth of the mask, she wondered how it would go about kissing her, and it seemed to once again pick up on her thoughts. It’s hand comes up and grasps the chin of the mask. “Do you permit it?”

Her curiosity over took her rational thought and nodded slowly. And with her permission, it began to untie the mask at the back of it’s head, holding onto the chin with the other hand. When the metal mask loosened, it’s caught it deftly in it’s hand, and her breath suck in sharply at the face presented to her.

The main thing that she did not expect was how human it looked- _or he_ \- looked. Skin tanned and frown lines prominent, he would pass as a normal person in the streets if it weren’t for the horns creeping out from his forehead and how the blue eyes were back into view. Though not as bright like back in the shrine, they still glowed unnaturally.

The second thing she registered, was how absurdly handsome he was, and Sansa viciously stomped those thoughts down. But it was hard with how damn expressive his eyes were, as if wary and waiting for her opinion of his looks. Like she would recoil from disgust, which made no sense to her.

Instead, she licked her lips, firmly ignoring how his eyes darted to them for a quick second, and whispered, “What are you?”

She watched mesmerised as his lips moved, shaping the sound of his voice, not muffled like it was behind the mask. “A demon. A god. A _monster_. Whatever the world needs me to be.”

“Were you ever human?” She wondered out loud, breathless at his words.

The blue eyes then shifted into something harder and cooly responded, “That question, would need payment in return. And I think I will be taking enough from you now.”

Disappointed by his words but understanding, she nodded. The mask was set aside by her hip on the ground, and once again, those cold, dry hands, came up to her face. They cupped her cheeks softly, and Sansa wondered with hushed awe at how gentle a terrifying being could be. After months of sharp edges and harsh blows, the caress of his fingers on her skin made her want to cry once more.

What she did instead though was breathed out, “I permit it.”

Half-lidded eyes, the being leant in, and she couldn’t help the soft gasp that left her lips at his touch. It was like kissing lightning and she eagerly pushed forward into his lips, most likely making the kiss last longer than it needed to, but she did not care.

Her hands came up to run tentatively through his short hair, fingers lightly dancing across where the skin met the horns, and his muffled groan sent a thrill shooting through her body. His hands began to feel warmer as they moved to tangle into her hair, and he tightened his grip.

It wasn’t painful, just firm enough to force her head to tilt back more so he could continue to devour her mouth. Her head felt light, floating, and Sansa wanted to spend the rest of her life like that. But soon, the moving of their lips slowed, and he pulled back, both panting softly into one another’s mouths. Opening her eyes again, she noticed that the glow of his were brighter, and mourned when he pulled away further.

His hands withdrew from her head, and with it, her hair. Automatically, her hands flew up to touch her hair, feeling how it was now just past her jawline. Not as bad as she thought the deal would be, thinking he would take it all, leaving her bald.

Running fingers through the short hair, she glanced back up at the being still sitting on her thighs. He gripped her chunk of hair in a firm grip and murmured, “The payment is complete.”

Frowning, she took a pause to think over what he was taking, and then widened her eyes. She began to recall the last four months, and though the memories had her shivering, there was no terror and sickness building in her throat.

She spotted the wry smile on his face, and she had to take a subtle breath at how handsome and almost boyish he looked with that expression. Sansa made a resolute decision in her mind right then and there.

She did not care if he was a demon or worse. She would worship this being to the end of her days. 

**Author's Note:**

> There was more world building i wanted to do, but eh.  
> Cor is socially awkward and terrifying. sansa: mark me down as scared and horny.   
> Thank you for reading and thank you for those who followed me along this entire month! Have a good halloween.


End file.
